


The Taste of Copper

by PurpleMango



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adopted Peter Parker, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because of Reasons, Everyone Loves Peter Parker, Hurt Peter Parker, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Pepper Potts, Sick Peter Parker, Terminal Illnesses, Whump, ish, like I dont like my faves dying, or arguing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-10-18 15:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17583137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleMango/pseuds/PurpleMango
Summary: Turns out that the spider bite has some late-stage effects that change Peter more than he expects.All good and fun, until tragedy strikes... And now Peter Parker, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, was trying not to eat the lady next to him on the subway.So, yeah, now it's not so great.





	1. The Beginning of the End (Which Sounds Way Better Than 'Wow That Kid's Life Sucks')

**Author's Note:**

> I obviously don't own Marvel or any of it's characters, plot, ect.  
> I wish... :P

Peter’s mind was going in circles, eyes shut tight as he tried to focus on the music in his ears, the rocking of the subway, but it wasn’t enough. 

Even with the chattering people around him, the music so loud that felt like it was was cutting away at the inside of his brain like one of the pumpkin’s he’d been carving with May only weeks ago (their forgotten husks covered in snow on the fire escape), Peter could still feel it.

The all-consuming hunger.

Peter Parker, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, was trying  _ not  _ to eat the lady next to him on the subway.

What a fun time.

 

How did this all start? 

Well, Peter Parker had found there were more than just the enhanced strength that his spider-incident had given him.

At first it was kind of interesting, in a _'Wow I didn't know I could do that! Awesome!'_ sort of way.

The first time it had happened, Peter had seen some yarn in art class and being bored out of his mind, shoved the stringy material into his hands to fiddle with while Ned, MJ, and him talked. 

Ned was failing at watercolors spectacularly, MJ ignoring both of them in trade for her own sketchbook except for when she was insulting them. 

Business as usual. 

Until the teacher had come over and complemented Peter on his weaving and then the whole class was looking at him and he didn’t know what she was talking about and his brain was racing a million miles an hour and- 

His eyes caught on a where his hands were moving, almost instinctively to weave together the yarn into the weirdest looking mesh net he’d ever seen.

Sure it was beautiful, but Peter could only stare blankly as his hands moved, twisting and turning and weaving the yarn together. The teacher didn’t seem to notice his stunned expression, clapping him on the shoulder lightly and offering him a place in the art fair before walking off.

Needless to say, MJ had some left over yarn from a knitting phase she'd gone through and Peter amazed himself by being able to weave the strands into something beautiful (Aunt May had definitely appreciated his new talent when she got a hand woven satchel for their version of mother’s day).

When Tony found out about this, the two discussed for what seemed like hours about how Peter could do this, debating the merits of having spider-like instincts transferred over from the spider bite.

But with nothing else to offer up to prove this idea, they shoved it to the side and moved onto talking about cooler things.

 

The jumping thing was new. 

And pretty friggin' handy.

One bank-robbery gone wrong and Peter found a gun pointed at him, everything inside him screaming  _ Get out of the way! Jump! Run! Dodge! _

And so he did as told, trusting the instincts that had saved his life so many times before.

Yet when he jumped (and he might have been a little panicked and therefore not watering-down his strength), he crashed through the ceiling and found himself on the second floor of the corner-bank. 

After disarming and webbing up the bad guys, Peter found himself out in an alleyway, looking up at the top of a smaller building. With a hum, he crouched down and with all his might, sprang up into the air. 

When he landed on the roof easily, he cheered loudly, spending the rest of patrol jumping from roof to roof.

Tony was worried when he didn’t show up the following weekend to make more web-fluid, but after a quick explanation, he made Peter show him exactly what he could do. It was awesome to spend more than a couple hours with his mentor, as the genius was getting ready to host the pardoned Rouge Avengers, so Peter didn’t mind a bit.

But all-in-all, the new developments weren't that bad.

Sure, he was losing weight for a while and after a very concerned May stuck Tony on his case they found his bone density was lighter, therefore making him a whopping ninety-five pounds (meaning Mr. Stark could bench press him and _that_ amused the man to _no_ _end)_ , but it wasn't that horrible. Peter could still lift more than anything Tony could and it seemed not even his light-weight bones could take from that.

Plus it made swinging through the city and jumping up buildings easier.

Then along with his improved eyesight and hearing came improved flexibility. To MJ and Ned’s amusement, he found his body also reacted to music, moving sometimes automatically and that the movement changed based on the music. 

Heavy rock soon became banned from around him, as he found the music irritated him into almost running away from the noise (But on a different note- salsa music was also banned, but that was because he was embarrassed about the time MJ had been having too much fun and he'd found himself using a streetlight as a stripper pole).

 

Weeks ago, he’d thought about all the good things that’d been happening to him and for a brief second was about to consider, maybe- maybe the spider bite had a  _ downside…  _ but then after another second he'd just pushed that thought to the side.

Man, he should’ve listened to that tiny voice in his brain.

 

 

 

It had started up after her death.

Only a week from the Rouge Avengers coming back to the U.S. with full pardons and _of course_ everything had gone to shit with a vengeance.

Peter had been out on patrol.  Y’know... saving people, stopping (bad) things, the  _ spidey  _ business…  Well more like he was helping a overly pregnant woman load groceries into her car, but it was something and the small smile the woman give him was so pleasantly kind-

Peter’s head jerked up, the sound of a gunshot ringing to his ears. 

In seconds he was out of the parking lot and Karen was directing him towards the sound of the fired shot.

Absentmindedly he noticed it was taking him back towards his apartment and he wondered if May had rushed out, medical kit in hand, ready to help whoever was in trouble.

He asked Karen what floor it was and almost crashed into a wall when he was told where to go by the smooth voice. 

Not because of her voice, that would be weird, no- but because Karen had said _his_ _apartment_ _number_.

The soft voice broke his thoughts. “Police have already arrived on the scene.”

Yanking off the suit as fast as he could, he grabbed his backpack and shoved his way through the crowd and into the apartment building, mumbling apologies and excuses as he went. 

Two officers held him back from the entrance to his apartment and his mind froze when they gave him pitying looks. “What’re you doing here kid?” The taller man’s voice was worn, but sounded so sad, eyes softening

“I- I live here... Is May- My aunt- is she alright?” His voice broke unsteadily, panic gripping him

The two cops exchanged glances. “She… Kid, your aunt- She didn’t make it.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. 

No longer was Peter’s earth at exactly 23.5 degrees, no, now it felt like the earth was spinning out control with no axis to keep it regulated. He could almost feel the gravity shifting, his insides being thrown around inside his body, but no one else seemed affected.

( _ Kid, your aunt- She didn’t make it.) _

He didn’t hear himself as he cried out for May, didn’t feel as he clawed past the officers easily, but then she was there. 

The multicolored woven satchel crumpled next to her, long brown hair splayed around her head, chocolate brown eyes glassy and lifeless. Red blood staining her favorite orange tank top. Skin abnormally pale.

(Y _ our aunt- She didn’t make it) _

Peter didn’t move. 

He couldn’t move.

Almost as if his senses heightened to meet what he wanted, he could hear the blood in her veins moving sluggishly, her heart failing to beat.

Peter was too lost in the grief to realize at the time, but his body  _ ached  _ with a raw sort of hunger, like a beast waking up for the first time after hibernation. 

Somewhere in the back of his brain, he remembered something he'd read once about how young spiders would sometimes eat their parents to survive, but the thought made him sick so he pushed it away and clung to his aunt. His hands were tight, gripping at her, hoping to hear something. Hoping her heart would start beating again.

But she was already clammy and steadily growing colder.

( _ She didn’t make it.) _

Her heart didn't start beating again.

Peter, not for the first time, wished he was dead instead.

 

Tony Stark was the one to pull Peter back to reality. 

Because of course he was.

Mr. Stark, in the middle of all his international and domestic politics, had taken Peter back to the compound and done the one thing any genius mechanic could do a broken, wild animal: he fixed him up as much as he could before releasing him back into the wild.

Peter didn’t know how long he’d stayed in the lab, sleeping on the sofa and only eating what was shoved at him, lifeless and unresponsive… but eventually he’d gotten better. He’d helped Tony lift the overly heavy parts of things, worked on things that could get his mind off the sight of the last family he’d had left laying dead on the floor of his home.

Then the Rogues moved in and he moved out.

Tony had given him Stark Tower.

Usually Peter would be ecstatic over something like this or maybe even have tried to refuse the more than generous offer, but now- now Peter just mumbled his thanks and numbly watched a wakandan plane touchdown as Happy drove him away from the compound. 

Mr. Stark made it clear he didn’t want the Rouges near Peter, and if that meant not having to deal with more questions on why he didn’t have parents or why he was living under Mr. Stark’s care, then was more than happy to oblige.

Mr. Stark had even integrated Karen into the tower’s mainframe, hoping the soothing tone of the familiar AI would help.

The business parts of the tower were unchanged, going about everyday business, but the top 15 floors of the tower were shut down to most everyone but Peter. 

Seven floors of randomly arranged  _ stuff _ from the Rouges, Bruce and Thor. The two floor penthouse that Peter took up staying in, the two laboratory floors, the gym, the pool, the library, and the common area were all untouched. 

It was like living in a museum. 

And other than the times Pepper would stop by to eat dinner with him, Peter made due with Karen and Friday. They wouldn’t die one him. They couldn’t get hurt, couldn’t bleed out on the floor in front of them. 

( _ She didn’t make it.) _

He didn’t have to protect them.

 

His nightmares changed.

No more were the times of crying out into a dark void as concrete pillars crushed him.

No, now Peter could sort them into two specific categories he was so familiar with them.

There were ‘soft’ nightmares- Ones where he was stuck wandering the streets of New York calling his aunt’s name, but she was nowhere in sight, or where he was stuck in a small dark room with nothing the smell of copper and slick liquid covering his hands.

But on occasion the dreams would take a turn for the gruesome. 

They didn't have a name, as whenever he tried to give them one he started to sound edgy and dark- so he just gave up. When asked by Friday or Karen how bad they were, he usually just replied 'bad'.

May would cry his name pleadingly at his feet and then blood would be covering the ground and he could feel something in his gut, something twisting hungrily even as he felt horrified.  He couldn't move. Couldn't get the smell of copper out of his nose or the blood off his hands.

Those nightmares always left Peter feeling more empty, hollow, than anything and he would hide away in the library until Friday or Karen persuaded him to leave.


	2. Yes, That's Another Reason to Hate Protein Drinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we get some answers to Peter's condition...

After the nightmares came the cravings.

Peter found himself craving red meat.

Growing up in a house of eating more vegetables than meat, he surprised himself by having growing cravings for raw meat. 

It was unsettling to find himself gorging on the raw meat in the fridge one night, blood and fat dripping down his chin, but after a mild panic-attack he decided it wasn't a huge issue...

It was only when he went on a walk downtown and found himself three seconds from taking a bite out of a street vendor that he asked Karen and Friday for help.

And the AI’s, two of the three women in his life right now, seemed to spring on the chance to help him. 

Like the ordered and intelligent women they were, they split up and wracked the whole internet for a clue to Peter’s new-found obsession with red meat (and trying to eat people).

Friday spoke up first, as the elder of the two. “It may have something to do with your recent loss. Sometimes emotional trauma can-”

“Skip.” Peter chewed moodily on a piece of raw steak, as it seemed to help the cravings somewhat, swinging his legs from where he was sitting on the counter.

The AI's lilting Irish voice wouldn’t let the psychology go though. “But sometimes mental breaks after traumatic event can cause-”

“Nope.” Peter refused to touch that subject with a ten foot pole.

The AI huffed, a bit fondly. “You are being what Boss would call a ‘brat’ today, Parker.”

He stuck his tongue out at the ceiling, before moving on. “Karen? What’cha got for me?”

There was a long pause of slight static, like the younger AI was thinking. “Well Peter, you might know, spiders usually have diets containing of meat.” Her voice was soft, as if afraid to upset him, but she continued on. “Spiders inject their food with a sort of venom that makes the… insides easier to eat.”

He made a noise of disgust.

Friday seemed to laugh, but Karen just continued in her calm voice. “Spiders tend to eat things their size- and most of the stronger species… eat other spiders.”

There was silence as that sunk in.

Then Peter was jumping off the counter, waving his hands as he paced the room. “Spiders! I don’t wanna eat spiders! They’re really hairy and- and they’d be crunchy! And-”

“Peter I don’t think you understand.” Karen’s voice was soft, like when she would talk him though a nightmare, and he knew what she was saying was something he wouldn't want to hear. “Their survival instincts cause them to eat things their size... Sometimes even their own species.”

He stopped short in front of the floor length windows, bile riding in his throat.

Friday sounded more gentle than he was used to hearing her, usual sarcasm forgotten. “As I said, your survival instincts must have been activated when… your aunt died.”

(Y _ our aunt- She didn’t make it) _

“I- I wouldn't-” He stumbled back. "I would never-"

Peter didn't realize his breathing was rising, ears pounding, until a recording broke through the haze of his panic. 

“ _ Hey Pete, I know you're out being a superhero, but can you get some milk for me? That damn neighbor to our left forgot hers and asked to borrow ours and she's not giving it back-... Just pick up a jug whenever you're headed home... Love you bud, I'll see you in the morning.” _

By the time the old voicemail recording was done, he was crying, but at least he wasn't on the edge of a panic attack.

“I wouldn't.” He sniffed, curled up in a ball on the floor, arms gripping his legs tightly. “I wouldn't do that. I'm not gonna eat someone.”

Karen's voice was quiet, almost concerned. “Peter… you might have to. Studies were done that zoos who tried to feed the larger spiders processed meats, found that they got sick faster and sometimes even… died."

He stood silently, looking out the floor-length windows in a blank haze.

Friday dimmed the lights. “Take a nap Parker. We’ll look for another way.”

Peter wanted to help, but a wave of exhaustion hit, and he ended up curled up on the couch.

 

Tony and Pepper got involved when the first episode hit. 

Peter had been in the middle of lunch with Pepper, standing up to put away the dishes, when it happened. He'd been standing, talking normally one second, the next his body felt heavy and he was falling to the floor. 

Later, in the Stark Towers med bay, Pepper told him quietly that he had fainted quite spectacularly (not _exactly_ her words) and gotten a concussion. 

The doctors didn't know what had happened, but suspected it was from some form of starvation they'd never seen before, his body seeming to be slowly eating itself away from the inside out. 

After multiple NDAs were signed by the doctors and Tony flew down, the two spent a whole day observing him. 

They reluctantly both went back to their respective jobs, but only after both Friday and Karen were put on Peter-watch.

After three incidents where the two adults hovered over him like crazy, Peter finally convinced Friday and Karen to bypass the immediate alert system in turn for taking data and sending to to both adults every Friday. 

That way Pepper could worry over him during her lunch hours and Tony could call him from the lab as he worked on his day off from meetings.

Also, that way Peter could be left to die _in_ _peace_ instead of being fussed over.

His plan lasted about two weeks.

Because Parker luck always wanted to screw Peter over, Tony sent him a message the First of December, wanting him to come down to the compound to stay until Christmas and to say hi to Rhodey and Strange. So Peter was left with no option but to concede to going.

And although Pepper had planned to drive him down to the compound, riding down with her wasn't an option because she got pulled into an emergency SI board meeting.  So with a scolding from Karen for 'even suggesting trying to fly the quinjet', he pulled on the warmest clothes he had and made his way to the subway station.

 

That was how he got here: t rying not to eat the lady sitting next to him who was sleeping in the weirdest position he'd ever seen. 

Though, at the moment, his brain was more stuck on the steady _thump_ _thump_ _thump_ of the woman's pulsing blood. 

Closing his eyes, he focused instead on the loud music in his earphones, forcing his brain to think rationally.

The train’s automatic female voice chimed out the name of his stop and he shivered as he stumbled off the platform. 

That wasn't Friday or Karen. They were safe. 

They'd never be that emotionless.

( _ She didn’t make it.) _

Moving quickly through the crowd of steadily thrumming pulses, he spotted Happy and almost collapsed in relief when the man didn't trigger any weird sort of hunger in him. “Happy can we get out of here?” His voice sounded tired, even to his ears and the man nodded, opening the door without any grumbling. 

Once in the car, the thrumming heartbeats were dampened and Peter sighed deeply.

“Peter?” His phone lit up in his pocket, Karen’s voice spilling out of the speakers.

He pulled out the Stark-phone, smiling at the screen where two pulsing orbs of light purple and forest green were displayed. “Hey girls.”

The green orb pulsed as Friday spoke up. “Parker are you okay? Your heart rate spiked in the subway.”

Peter sighed deeply. “It's getting worse. Not around Happy or Pepper, but… it's this-  _ pull _ .” The car stopped and he almost whined, nerves pulling at his heart. “What if- if I attack Rhodey or-”

“No worries Peter. We'll be in the compound recording your vitals and watching.” 

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. 

“Go get ‘em little boss.”

Happy pulled open the door, eyes widening at the tear Peter felt slipping down his cheek, but fumbled to hand him a pair of sunglasses before looking away awkwardly. “Here.”

Peter muttered a quiet thanks, sliding out of the car.

 

The compound was as spacious as he remembered and the quiet sounds of the surrounding forest blocked out the heartbeats of the people walking around comfortingly. 

He’d picked up a habit of hating the oppressive silences of the tower, Friday and Karen always talking to him or playing soft piano music, so the sounds of the wind through the trees made him relax.

Humming a song stuck in his head, he felt his mood lighten with every second he spent outside in the sun, not having the oppressive weight of the empty tower to bring him down. 

Peter threw open the door to the compound, ignoring the eyes that turned to stare at him. “Karen, remind me to go outside more often and Fri- do you have my fruit?”

Friday hummed. “Sorry Parker. No fruit. Unfortunately it was  _ rudely  _ eaten  _ before  _ you could get here _. _ ”

He half smiled at the pettiness of the AI, but tisked lightly, shaking a finger and knowing both AI’s were watching him. “Hey Fri, no salt in the compound, or it’ll mess with my mojo.” He kicked off his shoes at the door, hanging up his hoodie on the hook just inside the door that no one ever used or noticed.

“Sorry little boss.” 

Peter grinned widely at the nickname. “Okay… So a protein shake will have to do for now. Karen you know the drill.” 

His playlist started up over the speakers and he slid into the kitchen, filling a bowl with water and pouring the chalky dust into it. 

Then, singing along with ‘Mr.Roboto’, he danced around the kitchen, whipping up the mixture before pouring it into a large glass. “Better hope I don’t throw this up or it’ll be some poor deer in the woods around this place.”

Karen’s voice was almost sympathetic,even in knowing he was joking. “Just think about how bad liquefied meat would taste.”

Peter gagged, shaking his head. “Thanks for that Kare.”

“You’re welcome Pete.” The AI sounded much too happy.

He struggled with gulping down the gooey liquid, scrunching up his face as he tried not to throw up. 

“Zombie cure?” An amused voice sounded.  Peter blinked open his eyes as soon as the nausea faded, seeing Tony smiling down at him. “I see you brought Karen… I swear kid, you’re too much. Not only have you corrupted Karen, but my Friday  _ too _ ?”

“Boss, he’s adorable. You can’t blame me.” Friday whined.

Tony’s smile dropped slightly and he held out his arms. “Come here kiddo.” Peter tucked himself away in the genius’ arms, enjoying the warmth without the usual hunger that came from being around people.

“You have a _kid_ Stark?” A voice was thrown across the room and Peter flinched. 

Tony snorted, but his tone was cold when he answered the question. “What d’you care Wilson? Mind your own business.”

The soft voice Peter associated with Natasha spoke up and he pressed himself closer to Tony. “It  _ is  _ our business Stark. You made another AI for him, one that sounds almost…  _ alive _ . We should know if you try to create another Ultron, so we can stop it before it can happen, shut it down”

Tony let go of Peter, his mouth moving angrily, eyebrows furrowed.

But Peter’s hearing had gone wonky like he was underwater, his vision tunneling as he struggled to breathe.

( _ She didn’t make it.) _

They- these people- they were going to take Karen and Friday from him. 

They would take them and he’d be left in the Tower alone, with nothing but the dust, left to rot away. 

( _ Shut it down.) _

He didn’t hear the gasps that were coming out as he stumbled forward, didn’t see the room turn to look at him with wide eyes, the voices trying to talk to him. 

Then his hands were on the cool glass of the window and he tapped three times shortly, three long, and then three short again.

S. O. S.

Instantly, a voicemail was playing over the speakers, May’s voice settling something wound tight in his chest. “ _ Peter, I’m calling to tell you to be home early tonight. You know that you have your Math final in the morning, so no going and getting into too much trouble… I know you probably won’t see this, being your crazy stupid self, but well, I love you. Happy birthday Peter, I'll see you in the morning with waffles.” _

The message cut off and in between the silent sobs wracking his body, he tried to speak up. “Fri-”

“Yes Parker?” The soft Irish accent sounded concerned. 

“Get- get me some’ore fucking protein shakes. I’m gonna go drown myself.”

The gentle concern didn't leave, but the sarcasm was back in full stride to cover. “I’ll get the pool cooled down for your afternoon suicide attempt right away Parker.”

His lips quirked up at their ongoing joke about his swimming routine, the one Pepper had suggested to keep him in shape without being potentially harmful. “Thanks Kar.” He pulled himself up, shambling away from the group and towards where his room was set up next to Tony's. “Let me know when Mamabear shows up, will you?”

Karen chimed in. “Miss Potts is pulling up the driveway if you wanna stall your attempt at death for thirty minutes...” 

Peter shrugged, sniffing and turning to the door. “Couldn’t hurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Protein drinks are horrible and no one can convince me otherwise.  
> They're at the same tier with liquefied meat, in my (biased) opinion.


	3. The Real Question Here Is: How Does Tony Not Have A Gay Blanket Already?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Some angst buried under domestic vibes~

Pepper saw him and immediately pulled him into a hug. “Pete? You okay?”

“The other spider wanted to shut down Karen and Friday... I panicked.” The words were muffled, muttered into the woman’s shoulder.

Pepper’s lips twisted. “Right. And are you sure you don’t want to try eating other spiders? Because I wouldn't mind...” 

Peter and her stared at each other, before both bursting into laughter. 

Pepper held out her arm and he hooked on it. “I say we have our usual lunch today. Friday told me you wouldn’t mind…”

He nodded quickly. “Yeah! Sounds good for me!”

They walked back to the compound, Peter’s heart lightening with every second of being around her, like she sucked all the sadness from him. Pepper broke from him to give Tony a kiss on the cheek. “Peter and I are going to have our usual lunch later if you wanna join, but I have a few conferences first with the board, so why don’t you two work on a project together?”

Tony frowned, eyebrows scrunching together as he did. “I have a meeting with the U.N… But I’ll be out in time to join you two for lunch.”

Peter waved them both off with a easy smile. “I’ll be fine. I spend all my time with the girls anyways… Plus we have some research to do still on the-” He coughed lightly. “ _ -Zombie _ matter.”

“I also have some ideas to pitch at you when I get back from my meetings, but I have... some yarn? MJ sent some here and I-... Got you some more?” Tony looked sheepish.

Peter snorted. “You went out and bought a whole store of yarn for me, didn’t you?”

Tony turned a light red and Pepper giggled slightly behind her hand. “I  _ might _ have gotten a loom and put it in the entertainment center…” The man flashed a grin, already over his embarrassment. “Make me a quilt! Gotta go!”

Pepper shook her head as she watched the genius scramble off. “I’ll be down in less than three hours from the meeting… If not, send help.” She pressed a light kiss to his forehead, heels clicking as she walked off.

Suddenly a wave of heartbeats hit him and he spun on his heel, taking in the curious faces of the Rogues. 

Peter tilted his head, watching them back. “Karen? Look into sound blocking earbuds. That might cancel the noise.” He wrinkled his nose as a coppery smell wafted towards him. “And nose plugs. Smells like blood.”

“Right away Pete, they’re coming with your fruit… Does this mean you’re not drowning yourself today?”

He grinned, winking at the closest camera. “Mark me down for tomorrow.”

“Will do.”

He hummed, moving to the entertainment room and eyeing the loom. “What colors should I do? I think red and gold’s too overdone.” He dug through the basket, pulling out the different colors of the rainbow. “Hmm… Does Tony have a gay blanket? I think he needs a gay blanket.”

“Not at the moment. Are you planning on making a ‘gay blanket’ for boss?” Friday sounded amused.

Peter nodded slightly. “Christmas  _ is  _ coming up soon. Would you put on some music?”

“Certainly.”

_ ‘Umbrella’  _ by Rihanna came on and Peter just shook his head as his hands set up the loom. “Never letting me live that down, are you? It was one time and I was bored!” Peter paused, then glanced down at the loom where his hands were now moving of his own accord, weaving and threading the yarn. “Okay, maybe a few times.”

“Peter… You’re a brat.” Karen sounded too amused.

He grinned at the ceiling. “That’s what got me into that pickle, yes.” The huff he got back was electronic and made him laugh. “It’s okay Kar, you and Fri can pretend that you weren’t enjoying it, but I know better.”

“You spent a week making a choreography to that song!”

Peter rolled his eyes, chest aching. “Switch the song Fri. I’m too tired to have this conversation.” 

The song changed to some classical piano music, the room falling into a peaceful silence. 

A few songs later, Peter doubled over coughing. 

After the fit had passed, he looked down at where his hand was covered in blood. 

He hummed, moving out of the room, back into the kitchen and ignoring the eyes on him. “Karen, add ‘coughing up blood’ to the list of symptoms.”

The AI’s voice was soft, sad. “It's right under temporary blindness Pete... Please wash your hands.”

“Yeah... Thanks Kar.” His body felt like it was too heavy, and then he was having another coughing fit, leaning over the sink. The coughing led to throwing up and when he’d finished, he stared down at the sink with detached fascination. “Be a dear and add throwing up blood too?”

“Please Peter, one person-?”

He slammed his hand down on the counter, not noticing it crack as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Not happening!” He wiped his mouth with his long sleeved sweater. “I won’t do it!”

Karen pleaded. “Without it you’ll die-”

Peter clenched his jaw, eyes fixing on the nearest camera. “And I will die in  _ peace,  _ knowing I didn’t become a  _ monster _ .” 

The AI didn’t answer.

He washed out his mouth with water, looking up when Pepper ran in, her eyes wide. “I came as soon as I could! You okay? Is it getting worse?”

Peter felt tired, the type of exhaustion that felt so heavy. 

_ He was supposed to be dying alone, in the tower, where no one had to deal with his fits.  He wasn’t supposed to be worrying anyone.  _

“I’m fine Pepper. Just a dying kid, y’know, nothing to see here.” He spit another glob of blood into the sink with a detached fascination, rinsing his mouth out with water before turning and leaning back against the counter. “Please, can I go back to the tower? I don’t think you or Tony need another problem to deal with and I have plenty of time-”

Pepper’s voice was thin as she cut him off. “Friday? Time frame please?”

“The longest time before death in the studies was three weeks. With Peter’s-  _ mutation-  _ I give it sixty days. I haven't gotten around to better research or scans.”

He cracked a weak smile. “So I stay for a few weeks and then I can go back to the tower to die in peace-”

“No.” The woman now looked determined. “No, you’re staying here with Tony and I. Rhodey can help keep your strength up, Helen Cho can figure out some sort of healing- I can even call in Strange to see if they're any magic that can-”

“Please don’t.” He felt so tired. So so very tired.

Pepper's cheeks were a blotchy red, tears welling in her eyes. “You can’t just give up! I won’t allow it! Do you think May would want you to just-”

Peter felt his own angry tears stream down his face. “MAY’S DEAD!” He breathed heavily as Pepper’s face crumbled, before softening his voice. “May’s dead and i’m not turning into a monster so you and Tony can play house.”

With the finality of a dead man sealing his fate, he shoved his way out the doors to the compound.

He'd sit outside for a while with the sun on his face and pretend he didn't know he was dying, like he was just visiting the compound for the weekend.

 

After all the drama of the day, Peter sat next to Rhodey at dinner, enjoying the teasing that they passed back and forth easily. Most of it was ribbing the other about their age, Rhodey making kid jokes and him passing back old man jokes.

“What’s your name kid?” 

Peter’s hand tightened on the bowl he was scooping out of and Rhodey quickly grabbed it from his hands before it could crack. He turned his eyes on Steve Rogers, practically feeling the vibration of the man's heartbeat even from across the table. “ _ Peter _ .”

The man furrowed his brows at the way he’d spit his name at the man. “Oh.” The all-american idol looked to the other Rouges as if for help, before looking back to him. A hand was extended across the table. “I’m Steve.”

Peter smiled up at Rhodey. “He has no idea, does he?”

“Play nice Pete.” Rhodey said softly, but then turned a scathing glare on the man. “And  _ you _ , get your hand away from him before you  _ lose  _ it.”

Steve pulled back with a deep frown.

Peter just chuckled. “Funny Uncle Ro... makes you seem like the bad guy when we both know it would be  _ me  _ ripping his hand off.”

The man’s lips pulled into something soft and fond and unbelievably sad. “You’re not a bad guy kid, you can’t even tie your shoelaces correctly.”

“And yet I still beat everyone in this room at pole dancing.” Peter grinned as the whole table seemed to choke in surprise. “Seems like a fair trade off.”

Rhodey grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You couldn’t even answer the phone the other day, I think you’re still a kid,  _ kiddo _ .”

Peter threw his arms up. “And Tony still can’t walk in a straight line! That doesn’t mean anything!”

"No..." The man snorted. “It  _ means  _ you and Tones are  _ both  _ children.”

A betrayed noise came from the end of the table, Tony looking like an offended chipmunk, cheeks full of burrito.

"Fair point." Peter cackled at the betrayed look he got from the man in question.

In the end, Peter found himself on the sofa across Rhodey and Pepper’s laps, wrapped in a blanket. 

Tony was sitting at Rhodey’s feet, leaning back into the man’s leg braces, Pepper hunning a perfectly manicured hand through Peter’s hair as they watched Bruce Willis shoot at terrorists.

Peter vaguely noticed Natasha watching him instead of the movie, but he brushed it off easily. 

He was too comfy to think about anything other than the sleep creeping up on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad Peter Parker is a mood and I have no explanation for anything


	4. Movie Time is the Best Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny bby spider puppy finds big boof dog with metal arm, friendship ensues

Peter was bent over a trash can in the gym, throwing up the pancakes he’d tried to eat for breakfast, when a large hand laid on his shoulder softly. He stiffened, but upon not hearing a thumping heartbeat, relaxed into the warm hand smoothing down his spine. 

Whoever this was, his body trusted them that it didn’t feel the need to activate what everyone was telling him was a ‘defence mesure’. He just hoped it wasn’t one of the Rogues, because it wasn’t a presence he immediately recognized.

After his stomach decided to stop trying to expel the contents of his already empty stomach, he groaned and tried to stand. 

**Fortunately** , the mystery person caught him when he swayed to the side. 

**Unfortunately** , he then knew exactly who his  _ dumb stupid idiot _ body deemed safe.

A metal hand steadied his back, steel blue eyes watching him away lightly, the Winter Soldier's face lingering on an expression called concern.  _(Could brainwashed assassins feel concern?)_  “You okay there?”

Peter groaned. “Not  _ you _ … Please, anyone but  _ you.  _ Karen why am I not getting the zombie-urge-thing?”

“Perhaps you know somehow he won’t hurt you? I’ll catalog it for further notice.” The AI spoke up, startling the man in front of Peter and causing the large hands to clench in surprise.

Peter winced and the man immediately loosened his grip. “Yeah, I get it. I’m stupid, by body’s got a shitty sense of humor, bla bla bla.” He looked up at the super soldier with pleading eyes. “Can you help me to the kitchen? I need something to replace my lost lunch.”

The man blinked, like he wasn't sure how to respond to a teenager acting so 'normal' around him. “Sure.”

Peter looked at his watch, now showing forty-eight days, Friday changing the time due to the readings she got from his continuous scans. The time was slipping away faster every reading she took. “Time is... such a bitch.”

“What's the deadline?” The blue eyes wandered from his face to the watch. 

He looked up at the man, it taking a second longer than it should have for him to realize where he'd seen the man in the past few days (hint hint- it was _nowhere_ ). “You haven’t been around the last few days, have you?” 

“I don’t come outside my room much.”

Peter pursed his lips. “Oh… Well I just have a big paper due. Nothing too special.” 

_ No need to scare off the guy, brainwashed assassin that tried to kill his adopted father or not. _

“An’ the throwing up?”

He smiled politely. “I’m sick at the moment. Nasty stomach flu.”

The man that Peter recognized as Bucky Barnes frowned at him, bringing his non-metal hand up to his forehead and humming. “You’re a bit warm, but don’ worry. These things always pass.” The man’s smile was flickering, like the man wasn't sure how his facial muscles worked, and _that_ was just sad to watch. “All you need’s a blanket and some bananas to settle your stomach.”

Peter pulled a face. “I don’t like bananas.”

“Too bad.” Barnes laughed. “I’ll make’um int’a a smoothie.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but drank the smoothie, not daring to mention it to anyone who he’d been spending all morning with. 

Especially not when they would figure out that Barnes’ puppy dog eyes could get him to down three of those horrid banana smoothies.

 

Peter froze in the middle of the hallway a few days later, when his watch read fifty-nine days. Blinking, he restarted the watch, but nothing changed. 

The number of days had gone _up_ , even as three days had passed.

Rushing around from Tony to Rhodey to Pepper, he bounced excitedly, his cheers of exaltation filling the compound. 

The day was spent in festivities, everyone elated that he was getting better, and to top it off he realized he hadn’t had an episode in the last few days. The Rogues even seemed happy with the news to an extent, but Peter suspected that it was because living with a dying kid was majorly depressing, even for them.

(He was a little disappointed when Barnes didn’t show up to celebrate though.)

Peter slept better than he had in a while.

He woke up the next morning, checking his watch on impulse, and felt all the happiness of the night before drain out of him when it read fifty-eight days.

Pepper and Tony stared at the number lifelessly, both having to be shepherded away by Rhoedy, and once again the dull mood returned to the compound- this time with a vengeance.

 

Peter was sitting on the roof, feet dangling off, when someone sat down next to him quietly. “You had some type’a party?”

“Birthday.” Peter’s voice was tired. “Turned nineteen.” 

It was half true at least, he was nineteen.

“Congrats.” Blue eyes scanned him, lingered on the watch, but didn’t say anything about the numbers. “You still sick?”

Peter hummed in affirmation, the fifty-six glowing in neon numbers, making sure he knew he was dying every time he glanced down.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

He decided he had nothing better to do and gave in, spending the rest of his day on the couch watching old comedies, feet tucked under the (better of the two) supersoldier’s thighs.

 

They made a routine out of it. Barnes and him curled up on the worn couch in the empty common area while the others were off training or in meetings, then whenever Pepper or Tony came by, the hobo-looking man had already disappeared.

The funny part of it was that neither Friday nor Karen seemed to have the slightest problem with the man. Not like the major problems they had with the other Rouges.  Also, Barnes always stayed away from the other Rouges, even sometimes going so far as to keep them away from Peter.

As for Peter’s time, it seemed to be dropping faster than he could keep up, Friday’s estimates always changing as his body seemed to be eating itself from the inside out.

Tony, finally free of the bureaucracy of the Rogues living in the compound, urged Peter to the lab so he and Strange could poke at him. Blood tests, x-rays, cat scans, Peter lost track of the amount of medical procedures they wanted to do.

Peter just let them do whatever, keeping his eyes on the clock. 

Hours slipped away and three o'clock got closer, the unofficial time of _Movie Time With Mr. Barnes™_.

“Aren’t you going to training soon?”

Tony didn't look up from the panel he and Strange were leaning over. “Nope. Team decided to take a few days off.” The ‘ _ because of your condition’ _ was left hanging in the air, unsaid.

“Can I leave?” The two men looked up at that, both giving him questioning looks. “I have a… thing.”

“What thing?” Tony now was focused in on him, his dad-mode in full effect

He fidgeted, look down at his hands. “Movie time.” He lowered his voice. “ImgoingtowatchamoviewithMr.Barnes.”

Tony looked exasperated. “Slow down kid and try that again.”

“Well I kinda- Mr. Barnes and I watch movies when the team’s training…”

“ _ Bucky _ Barnes?” Tony’s face darkened. “I thought you were staying away from those-”

Peter held up the watch that read thirty-eight days, his chest tight. “I have a little over a month and that’s if I don’t lose a week overnight.” Both men looked like his words caused them physical pain and Peter had to hate himself for using his condition again them like this, but he really just wanted to watch movies instead of in the horrible white lab thinking about dying. “Please? He’s not that bad… Let me have this?”

Exchanging glances with Strange, Tony nodded. “Yeah, okay kid. Go watch your movie.”

With smiles and a big hugs for both of them, Peter ran off to the common room. 


	5. The Russian Assassin Twins and Their Sidekick, One (1) Dying Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was informed that i've been neglecting this, so... here you go

Movie time was Peter’s favorite time of the day. 

Mr. Barnes (or Bucky as he’d finally convinced Peter to call him to his face), put up with his rambling trivia and rants about the movies surprisingly well, always listening intently. Sometimes his rants would be cut short by wheezing breaths or fits of coughing, but the man would fetch him a glass of water calmly, before tucking him into a pile of blankets.

But today Peter wasn’t even watching the movie. 

Wrapped in a blanket, his feet tucked under the supersoldier's warm thighs, he stared aimlessly out the window as Bucky watched  _ ‘Aladdin’ _ . 

The tests had come up with no way to stop his path of dying slowly. 

All they said was that he was dying of starvation, and it was coming quicker than expected. The good month and a half he’d had was now cut down to only about five weeks. Thirty-eight days.

Finally, like he could feel the mess of thinking in Peter’s brain, Bucky clicked off the movie and turned slightly to look at him, steel blue eyes searching his face. “What’s up. You look like a kicked puppy.”

Peter frowned lightly at that, but only shrugged. “It’s-... It’s nothing.”

Strong hands of differing temperatures moved his legs gently so the man could shift to face Peter, eyebrow raised. “Com’on Pete. What’s botherin’ you?”

He risked a glance at his watch, seeing it had re-calibrated with new scans since he was sitting still. Thirty-six days and twenty hours. Four days lost overnight and he felt as if he was drowning, lungs tightening. “I’m not-” he waved at his watch around like it would clarify his words, “-this is not a deadline for a paper.”

The man’s steel blue eyes widened slightly. “Oh- okay?” He laughed then, face curling into a slight smile. “That’s it? Pete you had me worried for-”

“I’m dying.” Peter’s chuckle was humorless and he rubbed at his wrists where he’d gotten so used to wearing his web-shooters, but wouldn’t ever again. “I’m almost surprised that no one told you, but I’m sick. Very sick… Mr. Stark and Dr. Strange have both been researching, but there’s nothing- nothing to do.” He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the tickling feeling behind his eyes like he was going to cry.

Bucky Barnes was completely silent, still as a statue.

He swallowed thickly. “I didn’t wanna tell you, to be honest. You’ve been the only person not treating me like i’d fall apart on them any moment and-”

“You can’t die.”

Peter’s head snapped up at the statement (that bordered on a command). “Wha-”

Bucky’s face was made of stone, eyes hard. “You can’t die. You’re the first goddamn person to treat me like I wasn’ some fuckin’ murder machine and I won’ allow you to die.”

He snorted. “I appreciate the sentiment, but since when did you control death?”

“Since you became sucha fuckin’ brat.”

Peter and Bucky spent the rest of Movie Time discussing hypothetical methods of getting him better (that devolved into random movie references eventually), Aladdin playing in the background.

 

After a lackluster night of nightmares and throwing up Pepper’s attempts at getting food into him, Peter stumbled into the main area, feeling like his whole body was on fire, but for some reason he was shivering violently.

Strong hands caught him and he flinched back violently. 

“Pete? Peter, hey…” 

He blinked blearily up at Bucky, brain not working fast enough. “Bu- Bucky?”

“Bucky what’s with the kid?”

Peter flinched further into Bucky’s arms, the pumping heartbeats assaulting him the closer the others got. “ _ No no no _ . No no- get away.” He could hear the sloshing blood, the smell of copper assaulting his senses, not wanting to think about the tugging feeling in his chest that wanted to tear open the neck of the closest pumping heartbeat.

“He looks horrible- what’s wrong?”

A glinting metal arm held the other supersoldier at bay. “Steve...” 

“Fri-” Peter broke from Bucky’s arms easily, stumbling away and backing to the corner. “Kar- please… protocol seve- seventeen.” He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed shallowly, trying to keep himself as far away from the others as he could.

“Activation code.” Friday's voice was flat and he knew she didn’t approve but couldn’t stop him.

“M- mike alfa yan-yank-”

Pepper rushed in, followed by Tony and Strange, carrying her high heels in hand like she’d been running in a hurry, which knowing her she had been. “NO! Override code: Pepper Potts!” She dropped the high heels, running over and pulling him into a hug. 

Tony and Strange followed, and their presence seemed to block the heartbeats. 

“Override accepted.” Friday sounded relieved.

Peter’s hands clutched at Pepper’s back, shaking with the weight of the sobs. “Just let- let me-”

“Shhh…” The woman’s voice was hoarse, wavering with emotion. “We have time. We have time… Friday?”

“He’s degrading faster.” The AI’s voice was soft. “I give it thirty-one days.”

“Bullshit.”

Peter watched detachedly when Tony turned on Bucky, his face murderous. “ _ What _ did you say?” He noticed the rouges had retreated for now, the metal-armed supersoldier the only one left. 

“Bullshit!” Bucky seemed to steel himself. “Pete’s enhanced! Shouldn’t that help somehow?”

Tony’s eyes widened in surprise at the comment that was most likely not what he’d expected, but Karen’s soft voice spoke up. “Mr. Barnes, without Peter’s enhancements, he would not be breathing right now.”

The breath seemed to be knocked out of the man.

Peter chuckled, his inappropriate humor causing him to trigger a coughing fit that left blood on a napkin Strange handed him. Once he was done coughing he snorted with a wide smile. “Who needs to breathe? Breathing’s for chumps.”

“Well too bad. You’re the biggest chump I know, so you better stay breathing.” Bucky moved closer, ignoring the looks of warning and pulled him into a hug. “I swear i’ll fight death if you try to fuckin’...”

Smiling, Peter pulled back and patted the shoulder of the metal arm. “I bet you’d knock some sense into death.” 

The man snorted, pulling him to the kitchen and proceeding to make him eat something while the others were left to gape at their backs.

 

When Peter woke up, the numbers reading twenty-five days left, he was determined to go see New York again before he died. 

He knew his rapidly decreasing time frame was the only reason but Mr. Stark and Mr. Barnes had gone inside a meeting room, argued for about two hours, before walking out as adults that weren’t friends but who both wanted him to be ‘happy’.

Peter thought is was a little useless if they still glared each other down when both in the same room, but at least they could be in the same room, so he counted it as a half-win.

The Rogues seemed to catch on to this unheard method of ‘cooperating’, slowly warming up to Mr. Stark because _'having a kid really made him more mature’_. 

Peter was less impressed with the idiots than anyone and having the dying kid that was living with them despise them? That was the real payback, as none of them had the humility to accept than anyone under the age of twenty could dislike them.

Although he was surprised when Natasha came to him (after talking to Tony) and apologized. 

More surprisingly, she didn’t register any type of zombie urges from him.

Friday made sarcastic jokes about ‘spiders getting along because of their similarities’ but most everyone accepted the woman being around him better than they had Mr. Barnes, probably an equal mix of her giving an apology that didn’t include stupid excuses and the fact she could get Peter to fall asleep the easiest of all of them. 

(He swore there was something hinky with those Russian lullabies, like a magical sleep spell of something.)

Back on topic, Peter wanted to go see New York.

So in a show of good faith, Tony took a day off work and invited the two former assassin's to join them on an outing to New York. 

Peter suspected that Mr. Stark had picked the two because they wouldn’t blink an eye at beating up anyone who put him in danger, but Tony just smiled and ruffled his hair when he’d asked what the man’s evil plan was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stan the Russian Assassin Twins (TM) looking after Peter

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry (not sorry) for killing Aunt May...


End file.
